


Don't Look Away

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, Gunplay, Torture, includes Ocelot enjoying torturing Snake way too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: “Do not dare look away,” hisses Sniper Wolf, her thick accent like barbed wire. “He is suffering for you, you know? To save your pathetic life.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> with thanks to Deer, who gives me the best ideas ;)

On the small, staticky screen, Snake screams, electricity coursing through him, throwing him around in his restraints. Ocelot laughs, a sound so joyful it makes Meryl sick to her stomach. 

She lowers her eyes. 

The hand in her hair is like a bear trap, forcing her head up. 

“Do not dare look away,” hisses Sniper Wolf, her thick accent like barbed wire. “He is suffering for you, you know? To save your pathetic life.”

Meryl bites her lip. “I never asked him to.”

Wolf’s hand relaxes its grip a breath. In the corner of her eye, Meryl can see her green lips twitch in a smile. “Men are so silly, are they not?”

“You would know,” she snarls. “Look at the _freaks_ you hang out with.”

Wolf tugs sharply on her hair again, Meryl’s neck now straining, the bullet holes above her knees throbbing as she tries to stay upright, blood soaking through the bandages.

“They serve my purpose,” says Wolf, her breath warm against Meryl’s ear. “And don’t get distracted by ridiculous romantic dreams like your _prince charming_ over there.”

Meryl wants to spit something back but another one of Snake’s screams throws her off. It’s such a raw, ragged scream, and even through the grain of the transmission she can see the bloody foam trickling down his lips, his white teeth stained pink. 

“Don’t worry,” chuckles Wolf. “Ocelot will not kill him. He is good at what he does. Almost too good.” Her lips brush against the shell of Meryl’s ear. “I think he is enjoying it a lot, if you get my meaning.”

Meryl grits her teeth. “S-sounds to me you are, too.”

“Hmm,” hums Wolf, sounding pleased. “Maybe I am.”

Meryl startles at the cold touch of her sniper rifle against her thigh, the cold barrel of the PSG1 brushing just above the blood spattered bandage. 

“And maybe you are, too?” she whispers, blowing into Meryl’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“I’m...I’m not a sick fuck like you,” she growls, even as Snake’s rough panting sends a spike of heat through her gut. 

“Are you not?”

The long barrel runs slowly up her thigh, smooth and cool, and when Meryl is about to tell Wolf to stop it, the tip of her tongue touches her ear, tracing the curve of her lobe before sucking it into her mouth and sucking. 

“Can you take some more, Snake,” chortles Ocelot from the screen, his gloved hand tilting Snake’s head up to look at him. 

The barrel of Wolf’s rifle nestles against Meryl’s labia just as Snake spits a glob of blood on Ocelot’s face. 

“He _is_ a defiant one,” chuckles Wolf, her lips against Meryl’s neck, dragging trails of waxy lipstick on her skin. “Just like his dad. But I don’t know if he is worthy of him.”

Meryl groans, the hard barrel warming up against her throbbing clitoris. 

“But then, nobody is. He was the only man I could stand.”

“Spare me the sob story,” snorts Meryl, and that earns her a sharp bite at the base of her neck. 

And the rifle barrel pressing harder against her.

Snake is screaming again, and Meryl’s hips hitch on their own, rubbing against the rifle, her flesh still caught in Wolf’s teeth, a breathy moan escaping her lips. 

“You are just like us _freaks_ ,” says Wolf, around a deep laugh.

Meryl doesn’t have it in her to contradict her, not with the barrel digging deeper into her, moving just enough to jostle her clitoris, shards of electricity sparkling up her spine. 

“Keep looking,” hums Wolf on her neck, nibbling and sucking. “Look at him suffer while you get all wet for me.”

Snake’s head hangs over his heaving chest, his whole body twitching with residual electricity. Ocelot runs his fingers over his bare stomach, a gesture so lecherous it makes Meryl sick, but also thrum with the sudden desire to see more of it. 

She lifts her good arm, blindly reaching behind her and burying her fingers in Wolf’s hair, thick with sweat and melted snow. She presses her face deeper into her neck, whimpers when Wolf bites her again. 

The rifle is moving faster now, squelching wetly as it rubs at her through her soaked underwear.

Meryl is so close, arches to get more, feels the edge of the barrel dig into the most sensitive side of her clitoris, and her breath hitches. 

Just as Snake’s last scream peters out in a hoarse groan and he goes limp in his restraints, all of Meryl’s muscles contract at once and she comes with a choked moan. 

She gets one last jolt when Wolf pulls the rifle away from her, and then she’s not being held up by the hair anymore and flops back onto the cot, thighs trembling and her wet panties sticking uncomfortably to her ass. 

Wolf nods at the screen. “Looks like Ocelot is done for now.”

“He didn’t give in.”

“Of course he did not,” she chuckles. “He is the hero. They are all stupid.”

She raises the rifle to look at the barrel. It’s slicked and shiny. 

Meryl groans when Wolf’s smudged green lips part and her tongue runs slowly along the tip. 

“If you are a good girl, next time I might not use the rifle,” she says, licking her lips. 

Meryl closes her knees, feeling silly at trying to hide anything now after what just happened. 

“Until then, do not do anything stupid, like trying to escape.” She leans over her and presses her lips to her cheek. “You have my mark on you.”

Meryl sighs, watching her saunter away, rifle slung across her shoulders and tube of lipstick already out. 

As if she _could_ escape, even if her legs weren’t shot through and still shaking with possibly the best and most shameful orgasm of her life. 

She sighs, her left hand idly caressing herself as she slowly lets exhaustion and blood loss take over. She’s sure Wolf will take care of waking her up when they need her, and she’s going to need all of her strength.

Especially if Wolf does good on her promise. 

Lulled by images of soft green lips, Meryl slips into a tired, fitful sleep.


End file.
